


Cold War,Cold Heart

by Deanstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cold War, Deastiel, Jess x sam - Freeform, M/M, Spy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deanstiel/pseuds/Deanstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean works for the CIA. Castiel is the best secret agent in russia and possibly the world. They have played this game for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phone Calls

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction that I've published so please be patient. Based of a tumblr post.

Cold War, Cold Heart

The phone line was silent. Fucking idiot had hung up on me. He was going to hunt him down even, if it took me years. And it already had. I’d been hunting this guy for 7 years, for Christ’s sake. God knows where the Russians had found him, but he was good. Castiel one of the strangest names I had ever heard, even in this line of work. Marko Ramius was another one of the strangest. A good man at heart, one of our best turncoats. But Castiel was a tough nut to crack. Utterly mysterious calling at random hours from payphones and hacking in through the line. I had caught up to him once, and his fighting skills were almost as sharp as his wit. Whatever. I rolled back into bed right as the phone rang again. I picked it up, grumbling.  
“Can you at least call at a decent hour? It’s four in the morning.”  
“Well the earth is round and spinning on an axis meaning that it’s four in the afternoon in Russia.”  
“Oh? So you are in Russia.”  
“I never said that. Just that it is four in the afternoon in Russia.”  
“So you aren't in Russia?”  
“I never said that either.”  
“Ha! I bet you're in some cheap whore house.”  
There was a very long silence.  
“Hey, come on don't tell me that offends you.”  
More silence. Then,  
“Americans are more blunt than I am used to. It was simply unexpected.”  
“Yeah, I guess. Hey, how do you speak American so well?”  
A sigh.  
“American isnt language. You guys are just sore over the war.”  
“ It is so a language! We amazing and we deserve a language. At least we’re not Kennedy’s bitches.”  
“To answer your original question my father is Russian and my mother was English.”  
There was a scuffling noise in the background.  
“I have to go, Dean. Maybe next time you'll get somewhere close to catching me.”  
Then the line clicked dead. I slammed my hand onto the nightstand. I had heard the damned smirk in his voice. This wasn't a fucking game. Whatever; I was up, I might as well do something. I sat down at my desk flipping my laptop open. There was an email waiting.  
Dear Dean,  
Collage is going great. The classes are challenging, but it’s not hard to keep up as long as you do your work. My roommate can be a problem; he has a passion for pranks. I found cough medicine coming out of the shower head this morning. He has a brother a year older than him who’s been hanging around. He’s pretty clingy and loves to play with my hair. Speaking of, it’s deep blue; Gabe’s handiwork (my roommate). I hope whatever you're working on is going well. I know you can't tell me, but be careful.  
-Sam  
I stared at the screen for a few minutes. Sam’s college “friends” certainly were interesting, judging by the letter. After a few minutes of thought, I wrote a response.  
Sammy,  
Work is going well. Cas is still being an elusive little bitch. Don't get into too much trouble at college, but get that stick out of your ass. Also, get laid, you can't keep this up forever.  
Dean  
I went onto the phone records and tried to trace the call for hours, coming up with squat. By that time, it was around 6:30, so I got dressed and headed upstairs for breakfast. When I got there, the most incompetent agent in the entire world was already seated there, munching cereal. Meet Chuck. No last name, just Chuck. He had managed to get all of his partners fired with his incompetence, but somehow he was still here. He wasn't a half bad guy, really.  
"Any luck with your Russian?"  
"If you’re talking about Castiel, no; he's still as slippery as an otter."  
"Well I found some new information, if you’re interested."  
"Dammit, you know full well I’m interested. Show me what you've got."  
He slid a black and white photo across the table. An older teen sat in a chair staring into the camera with wide eyes. His hair formed a halo of black curls around his head. There was the slightest ghost of stubble on his face. He wasn't smiling very much; a slight sad curve to his mouth and that was it.  
"His full name is Castiel Novak, named after the angel. His mother was very religious, not originally from Russia, she-"  
"She was from Britain. Yeah, I know."  
I looked up, and I swear the look on Chuck's face was worth the four AM phone call, the years of surveillance, the gunshot wound, the therapy; everything was worth it for this one face. He stared for about three minutes before finally composing himself.  
“Anyway his father is a higher up in the Russian government. He had a fuckton of sibling, including a little sister who is an expert in poisons. Anna Novak.”  
“Yeah yeah, I don't need his family tree. He’s gonna be dead, no matter who his daddy is.”  
“As long as this doesn't become too personal, it’s fine. Have fun chasing your Russian.”  
“Yeah, man.”  
Chuck got up and wandered off, and I went to the labs. They had the newest tech here. About 50 computers sat in rows with metal skeleton chairs behind them. I sat down in the back row, left corner. I always used this computer. It had an almost full drive with information on Castiel. This file Chuck had given me was a big breakthrough, with tons of new information, and I spent most of the rest of the day reading, organizing, and transferring it onto my computer. Then, I hit the gym, showered, and got ready for bed. Right as I was climbing into bed the phone rang. Technically the base phone rang, but I had bribed the phone boy into rerouting them into my room.  
“Hello, Dean.”  
“Hello, Castiel.”  
“Well, where are you?”  
“Give me one reason to tell you.”  
“I’m really good at sex.”  
“And this benefits me how?”  
“You could turn yourself in and we could have hate sex.”  
“Dean Winchester, how did you ever get this job? If you worked for my boss, you would be working as a slave.”  
“Ha! So you admit you keep slaves!”  
“NO!” he inhaled slowly and then breathed out. “I would never keep a slave, but that doesn't mean that others don’t.”  
"Touchy subject, eh?"  
"DEAN! I AM BASICALLY A SLAVE SO DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME ABOUT SLAVERY!"  
There was a long pause  
"I apologize for yelling."  
"S'kay. I get it, everyone has a pressure point."  
"You don't. I guess that makes you the better spy."  
"You've got to be kidding me. You’re the best spy the worlds ever seen and I've got a total soft spot for my baby brother."  
"I didn't know you had any siblings."  
"Castiel, Cas, we barely know each other; I mean we’ve spoken in person three times."  
"Yeah, in Budapest. Fun times."  
"I seem to recall you left me chained to a tower."  
"As previously stated: fun times."  
I laughed.  
"Maybe for you, but Alastair gave me hell for it. Also, don't you ever sleep?"  
"No, see, I'm actually a werewolf. At night I turn into a wolf and kill my enemies."  
"Well then, I guess I better get some wolf repellent."  
"That would not only be boring, but cheating, too."  
"You sure have strong moral values for, you know, a spy for the Russian government."  
"I try my hardest. Would you like a mocking bow?"  
"Yes, I would."  
I heard springs creaking and the rustle of fabric.  
"Well, there you go."  
"You know I wasn't talking literally, right?”  
“Well too bad. My hack’s done, so I’m going to hang up.”  
“Wait, you'll call back right? You're at least somewhat interesting, unlike most of the people here.”  
“When have I not?”  
And the line was dead. When I glanced over at my computer an error message covered the screen. That little bitch.


	2. Slippery Slopes and Emails

When I woke up my computer’s error message was gone and the new message button was illuminated. I opened it and found three new messages. I opened Sam’s first.  
Dear Dean,  
College is getting more interesting by the day. Gabriel is a little bitch and put honey in my sheets. Lucifer has very interesting eating habits, he puts peaches in cottage cheese. He’s also very clingy. VERY CLINGY, LIKE GIANT SQUID CLINGY. He is constantly begging to braid my hair. In other news classes are going well.I won an award for my new bridge design and some rooming money. Also I’ve made a new friend. Her name is Jess. Shes a engineering major just like me and crazy good with an etching laser. Once again be careful.  
-Sam  
I could respond to that later. I opened the next message.  
To Agent Dean,  
Having fun yet?  
-Castiel   
I snorted and rolled my eyes.One of these days all this playing around was going to get him in trouble. The third email was from Alastair and when I read it I spit my coffee all over the screen.  
Dean Winchester,  
Castiel Novak has slipped up. We have a location. Play time is over get to work  
-Alastair  
As usual poor grammar,but what do I care he was hired for his ruthlessness not his English.I quickly got dressed and headed out to catch a spy.

 

I have to admit I love fieldwork for one main reason. My car. I have a ‘67 Chevy Impala.It makes the long hours driving totally worthwhile. And music. I can’t listen to music at the base without headphones but on the road there’s no one stopping me from blasting my music. It took about three hours to get to the crappy motel Cas was staying at. It seems like ,as poor as Russia is, they could afford a proper hotel for their top agent.I decided to try to be as below the radar as possible ,so I got a room.   
I sneaked a peek at the hotel register. He was staying in room 203 ,and room 204 was unoccupied.  
Perfect.   
I went upstairs and picked the lock. The room was empty just as it was supposed to be. I opened the door and went out onto the balcony and jumped onto his. Then knocked on the door  
“Castiel, this is Dean Winchester of the FBI. Come out with your hands up.”  
“Not a chance in hell. You’ll have to catch me.”  
I kicked the door in right as he flew out the other one. I could have sworn I locked that door.  
“Fuck”  
I slammed through the door and ran down the hall. I caught up to Cas just as he ran into the woods. I started to chase after him and slipped on the mud. I crashed down a slope and hit my head on a root. Nothing seemed wrong ,but my balance was a little shaky. Otherwise I was fine. Castiel had disappeared and it was getting dark. Looking back at the slope I knew I had no hope of getting back up it. I tromped into the woods after my favorite Russian spy.


	3. Sass and spying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not betad

He had been walking for hours and found one sign of Castiel. He had shoved the scrape of trench coat into his pocket. He really needed a new one. His was way too big. I snapped out of my trance as a branch cracked. Castiel whirled and I ducked. The but of a gun smashed into the tree where my head had been a moment ago. Castiel jerked his arm downward. I grabbed it and twisted it around behind his back. There was the click of handcuffs and absolute silence.  
"What are we going to do, Dean Winchester? We just can't keep our cuffs off each other."  
"Don't. Don't fucking start. I need a shower and a cup of coffee so let's go."  
"What ever you say princess."  
"Bitch, I AM a motherfucking princess."  
We walked up the hill in silence. I put Cas in the car and took a quick shower. When I got back to the car Cas was asleep despite the fact that he was handcuffed to the laundry hanging thingamajig. I admit he looked kind of adorable. Maybe I could convince Alastair to let me have a personal assistant. I snorted at the idea. It was pure fiction. There was no way he was going to let me have any kind of non-work related with a Russian spy. With my luck I'd probably get to be the one who disposed of the body.  
The dude was still asleep and this was utterly boring. I paused the music and slowly turned the volume knob all the way up before pressing play. Kansas blasted out of the speaker and Castiel freaked. One of the proudest moments of my life. He laughed.  
"How can you be so relaxed? You have been captured by the country you've been spying on."  
"These things happen."  
"Seriously man appreciate your life a little more."  
He laughed.  
"I'm not going to die Dean."  
"And how would you know that?"  
There was a long silence.  
"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm gonna make sure you survive. It my job to make sure everybody lives. I'm the good guy."  
"It's really not that simple."  
And he curled up and went back to sleep leaving me to my music and general overwhelming guilt.

When we finally got to base I was allowed to go to my room and have a few hours to sleep shower and check my email. There was one from Sam.  
Dear Dean,  
I started going out with Jess. She's really sweet. I'm very happy. Gabriel is still a trickster ( I'm not over the tuna incident Gabriel. I know you're reading over my shoulder). He's really too horrible. Class is good we've started working with the lasers more. I'm really busy so I'm going to go now. Stay safe and have fun!  
-Sam

I was incredibly tempted to tell Sam about Cas. He was a really unique and amazing guy but I didn't want to risk getting him in more danger than he was already in. I don't know which would be worse never seeing him again or being the one who has to torture his secrets out. I really don't want anyone to die no matter what side they're on. Even Alastair even though he's a giant bag of dicks. Whatever I smell a shower is in order,

When I got out of the shower I found a joyous email waiting for me.

Dean congratulations  
You caught castiel. He's in cell 108. You have from 5 to 8.  
Alastair  
I've made up my mind this is worse.


	4. Risking lives

I had the worst job in the world, it was official. I had a little fun; I talked to a guy and bam! I have to go kill him. There's no way this is happening. We're supposed to be the good guys. I walked into the cell and the look on Cas's face was enough to make my lip tremble. I tried to fake happy.  
"Hey, Cassie how ya doing?"  
"Dean, I'm chained to a wall, blood is dripping down my back, and I haven't slept since the car ride."  
"Yeah, sorry dude. You could just overpower me and go back to Russia."  
"No I can't, Dean. A hit was ordered on you. I refused to participate. I said you weren't really the bad guy and that there were better ways to do it. I rebelled for you Dean. I have nowhere to go, even if I were to overpower you, as you put it."  
"Why would you do that? You’re going to die for someone you barely know, not to mention your LIFELONG ENEMY!"  
I don't think I'll ever understand Castiel. I don't understand his motivations. He's willing to throw away everything at the flip of a coin.  
"I'm a soldier, Dean. I have to make split second decisions."  
"I GET THAT MUCH! BUT YOU'RE THROWING AWAY YOUR LIFE! ALL YOU’RE DOING IS MAKING IT EASIER FOR ME TO KILL YOU!"  
"AND WHY DO YOU CARE? I'M YOUR ENEMY! AT LEAST YOU ARE SOMEONE INTERESTING! WHY DO YOU BOTHER? ALL THOSE TIMES WE'VE LET EACH OTHER GO. WHY DEAN? TELL ME!"  
His voice had grown into a cacophony of noise. It echoed off the stone walls and bounced back, sounding more accusatory and demanding than it did coming out of his mouth. Now, I'm gonna tell you something, it's really hard to explain something that you don't really know yourself but like everything in life we have to give it our best shot.  
"I don't really know. Maybe because I thought if I tried believing that there was good, I could be closer to my brother. Maybe I was bored. Maybe because everyone says that the saddest people smile the brightest and the quietest people have the best stories. Well, you know what? Good stories are worth waiting for, a damn long time for. And maybe because I think that maybe a guy throwing away his lifelong career and risking HIS LIFE for a guy is worth saving."  
There was a long moment of silence. Then from outside the door:  
“Dean, honey, I hope you’re getting some work done.”  
“Of course.”  
“Really? I don't hear the beautiful sound of blood dripping onto tile.”  
“There are other forms of torture besides brute force. Have some subtlety.”  
"There are other forms, but they don't work as well. Get going."  
I sighed and picked up a riding crop.  
"I'm really sorry I have to do this."  
There was the sound of blood hitting stone a few moments later.


	5. The show must go on

I'm going to say it now. Cas is really intriguing. He didn't scream once, and, while I'm not proud of my skills, I'm good at torture. I did learn from the best.   
"Dean, hey, Dean, earth to Dean! Come in Dean. Chuck calling, anybody home?"  
"Wha- oh, sorry, I was spacing out."  
"Yeah, I noticed. You were like in the next solar system. What happened to you? You should be leaping with joy."  
"Yeah, well, I guess the anticipation of victory is better than the real thing."  
"You stole that quote from the main lobby."  
"So what if I did?"  
Chuck sighed.   
"Whatever; don't mope around here. Go have fun on the internet. Porn, man."  
"I don't need porn, unlike some people."  
"Yeah whatever, just stop moping at my lunch table. It's distracting."  
"Like you’re actually doing anything."  
He slid a thick notebook over to me. It was filled with scribbles in a dozen languages.  
"I take that back then. You actually do work."  
"Of course I do. What did you think I did?"  
"Watched people walk by, eat , and watch porn."  
"Naw those are my off hours. See ya."  
I walked off raising my hand by way of farewell gesture. I felt a little better but I had still tortured one of the only people in the world who , in my experience, had turned out to be decent. Even my own brother had ended up screwed up, which is probably my fault. And now I had screwed this up too. I hadn't had the heart to really properly interrogate Castiel and had gotten no information. Alistair was gonna be pissed.   
When I got to my room I logged onto my email and opened the one from Sam.  
Dear dean,  
A lot has happened since my last letter. Jess is dead. There was an accident in the lab and her throat was cut through by the laser. It wasn't her fault this jerk was messing around. I'm still kind of shaken up but Lucifers been a comfort and Gabriel's temporarily suspended pranking. My grades have dropped a little bit but don't worry. Everything's going to be fine. I hope your life is better than mine right now.  
Sam  
It was all I could do not to curl up into a ball and cry. I just wanted one thing that I DIDN'T screw up. Sam,Cas,Jess,Charlie,Chuck, when would this list end? Probably only when I'm dead.


	6. Hells deep

I must have fallen asleep like that because my alarm went off with me still there. The blanket near my head was wet from crying and my muscles were sore from seller ping like that. I dragged myself to the shower ,got dressed, and headed down. I managed to grunt my way through breakfast with chuck and hurry downstairs. When I got there I bent down next to Castiel.  
"Hey, I've decided I'm fucking sick of this so I'm gonna get you out and were gonna go visit my brother and then were gonna run."  
"What is there to be sick of , you won."  
"The lives on my hands, I want to not screw someone's life up for once."  
"So you're saving mine."  
"Pretty much."  
We stared at each other for a minute. Before I pulled out they keys. Castiel jerked back.  
"Calm down. I'm serious this time I'm not going to hurt you."  
I unlocked the right hand cuff and moved toward the left. The look of stunned disbelief in Cas's eyes was worth it just in itself. I grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up. He was heavy but I'd been doing this since freshman year.  
"Common stand up. I know you can do. Your an agent too that means you've had all the training I have. Get up."  
It took Cas about 30 seconds to be on his feet. We managed to stumble to the door and make it to my car. I told the Guard. I was taking him to the hospital because he couldn't die before we got the info. Funny how split second plans work the best. We were part way down interstate 81 about 20 miles away when I noticed a truck going way over the speed limit coming toward us. Alastair was in the passenger seat. A looked over at Cas and saw the defeat in his eyes. A second later I was slammed into the dashboard in front of me. So if you're wondering what the plot of this story is or the moral or theme or whatever the fuck. It's a story about how there really are no happy endings. Not for spies in war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not totally happy with how the ending turned out it was kind of rushed. Any feedback is appreciated as are ideas for what to do next.


End file.
